


Celandine

by InsanitySilver



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, One Shot, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanitySilver/pseuds/InsanitySilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A not-so-typical day in the life of Sai Yamanaka as he prepares to give a presentation to Inojin's class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celandine

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who read this story before March of 2015! I accidentally uploaded the raw version, which explains the abundance of typos. This is the version I meant to share!
> 
> And as a last quick disclaimer, this was written and published in February of 2015 before we knew about Gaiden, so apologies for any inaccuracies as Kishi continues to release information! Thanks lovelies!

Sai ran his brush down the length of the paper, twisting his wrist in a way that required years of daily practice to have the line taper off in the exact way he desired. He leaned back on his stool, regarding his half-finished work. The subject, Isao Yamanaka’s cat Momo, departed from her perch outside his window long ago, but he saw enough cats in his time to complete the rest from memory.

Having only three legs—Isao refused to divulge the circumstance resulting in the loss of the forth—Momo made an interesting subject. Sai would’ve liked to paint her more often; however the cat only visited the Yamanaka’s household between the hours of eight to four: Ino’s work hours. After devouring the snapdragons Ino painfully cultivated over the past year for medical use, the cat made a permanent enemy of his wife. If she even thought she spotted the cat’s tawny hide, she grabbed the nearest sharp object and give chase.

Sai always found it amusing to watch Yamanaka’s clan leader, and youngest ever head of Konoha’s interrogation division trying and failing to capture a three legged cat. After years of marriage, he learned—or rather been taught—that expressing that amusement was strictly forbidden.

Thankfully, Ino never earnestly tried to kill Momo. There’d be no living with Isao after that. He was already bitter and angry enough as it was. Part of that was Sai’s fault…Okay, it was 89% Sai’s fault. Years ago when Sai originally began dating Ino and was significantly ruder in his frankness, he ruffled quite a few feathers inside the Yamanaka clan, and to this day they still refused to forgive him despite his marriage to their matriarch.

Sai dipped his brush inside the cup of water sitting on the desk by his easel, letting it rest there while he continued to internally critique his unfinished piece.  Sai frowned slightly, eyeing the dark blotch on the paper. Back in the art supply store, someone must’ve touched the paper with their grubby hands, leaving oils and faint smudge marks on the page. Unfortunately, Sai only noticed after he painted a third of it. Next to the layers of cream ink washes, the stain stood out even worse.

The problem demanded an answer. He could try to cover it with more ink or incorporate it into his piece. His mind began running through various compositions, utilizing the preexisting, half-way finished Momo. As his ideas progressively became more abstract, Sai glanced at the clock. With a small hum, Sai decided to put his painting of Momo off until later. No sense in getting absorbed into a piece only to have to leave it midway.

He slid off the stool, stretching his stiff limbs, making sure to pay extra attention to his fingers and wrists. He never used to get this stiff after drawing for a few hours. A gust of August wind blew in from the window, tickling is bare midriff. Shin once told him men asserted their dominance by showing their abs, and only years later did Sai realize he was probably joking, but by then he’d grown so used to crop tops, anything else felt strange. Still, Ino had been progressively forcing him into longer shirts. Not that it mattered much to him anyways. Listening to her rave about what was and wasn’t appropriate for a thirty-year-old man often required more effort than complying with her demands in the first place. He still remembered the pitying looks Shikamaru and Chōji gave him the night of his wedding amidst their ample threats.

Ino’s teammates eventually accepted him, though he could never trespass on the bond the original Team Asuma shared. On occasion he found himself identifying more with Karui and Temari as outsiders. Despite the kinship he felt with his friends’ wives, Team Asuma made a point of never leaving their spouses alone together. His frankness combined with Karui’s brashness and Temari’s bluntness often caused sparks to fly. They clashed blades on more than one occasion.

The breeze from the window rolled several of his paint brushes off the far edge of the table where they clattered to the floor. Sai rounded the table, picking them up with his gloved hands and swirling them around in the water. He watched the ink emerge from between the soft bristles in little obsidian clouds before they dyed the water black with their potency.

After drying them, Sai moved to place them back in their box. He paused, noticing his filbert brush sat at the end by the variously sized rounds, instead of its usual place by the flats. Inojin.

An amused smile tugged at Sai’s lip as he reorganized the brushes back into his preferred order. When Inojin was six, there’d been a little incident with daddy’s art supplies that left the house smelling like turpentine for a week. All the original tatami mats in the study had to be replaced. Ino was furious. Since then the boy had been restricted to his own beginner materials, but perhaps it was time to lift that ban. Maybe as a graduation present?

Sai didn’t say it as often as he should—years of psychological conditioning were hard to erase—but Inojin did show promise as an artist. Of course, all his current work was sloppy and childish, and Sai bite his tongue every time Inojin asked for an opinion, but his son showed promise for his age. He could see a future where Inojin surpassed him as an artist. It all depended on how much his son chose to rely on the Yamanaka’s techniques.

Sai closed the lid to his brush box, moving down to pull his painting off the easel, leaning it facing towards the wall so Ino wouldn’t see Momo. He replaced Momo’s effigy with a family portrait he’d played with for months. He hadn’t worked on it today, but it wouldn’t hurt if Ino thought he did.

Paintings in every stage of completion covered his studio walls. The pieces not hung were left in neat stacks on the floor. He never sold his work, but on occasion he’d gift them. There was a piece hanging up in the Hokage’s office, Shikamaru’s household, Chōji’s household, and a scattering of other places around the village. When he did give artwork away, it was chiefly to his wife and son. Ino fawned over each one, though his paintings of her were her favorite. Ino was vainer than any peacock, but the vice never bothered him. He loved painting her, and she loved modeling. Even more, he loved the chance to see her eyes light up in delight as they roamed over a new piece, delicate mouth stretching into a wide grin before too-tight hugging ensued. And kisses.

The notion that his art could evoke such joy in another human was exciting and foreign to him, even after all these years.

He only titled his work around fifty percent of the time. He did, however, sign his name on everything from the messy sketches he did on napkins to the 8-foot canvas hanging in Konoha’s library. His name meant something now.

Sai couldn’t remember his birth name. It’d been torn from him during his Root training, and all documents regarding his birth vanished. Sometime after the war and after all remnants of Root, besides the memories in his head, were destroyed on Kakashi’s orders, he was presented with the unique opportunity to choose his own name.

All his comrades had suggestions. Lee suggested ‘Guy-sensei’ while Sakura and Ino had a slew of “cool and mysterious” names for him to try.

The day of his decision came and his form read two characters: サイ.

Sai.

Sometime after joining Team 7, it became more than an alias. He _was_ Sai. His closest friends knew his as Sai. He even began to think of himself as Sai. There wasn’t a point to making everyone learn to use a new name. It was one of three good things Danzō ever gave him along with the opportunity to meet Naruto Uzamaki, and his brother Shin. He didn’t choose a surname for himself, to the dismay of secretaries and record keepers all over Konoha. His name didn’t change for years until his marriage to Ino.

Outsiders who married into ninja clans had the choice of taking the clan’s name, or keeping their own. Gender didn’t matter, but retaining the integrity of the clan did. On occasion clans would refuse to grant their name to someone marrying into the family, which, as one would except, caused quite a bit of drama. No one in the Yamanaka clan, besides a few crusty old men who were now dead, objected to Sai. His former attachment to Root made them uneasy, but his friendship with Naruto and his impressive mission record convinced most clan members otherwise.

Sasuke, being the last Uchiha-- _for real this time_ \-- automatically made him the clan head. As such, he had no difficulty inducted Sakura into his family. The Nara and the Akimichi spent weeks debating whether Karui or Temari could chose to take the clan’s name. Chiefly because neither woman even hailed from Konoha. Temari, having years of experience navigating politics, fared much better than the outspoken Karui. In the end, the clans decided to let both women take the clan name, but both declined.

Sai, not possessing the Yamanaka’s signature abilities was more of an honorary member. They allowed him to call himself as Sai Yamanaka, but not display their emblem on his clothing or battle gear. Sai didn’t mind. It was enough to be able to fill the gap that’d been empty for so long behind his first name. The sentiment and meaning his name held motivated him to sign it on every piece he drew. Every time he reminded himself who he was, where he came from, and what he gained.

Sai moved to the window, closing it and flipping the latch before exiting the crowded, but still organized studio. He padded down the stairs silently, more out of habit now than any real need for concealment. The quiet household smelled like violets today.

Sai entered the spacious kitchen, roaming the shelves for something fast. His wife ceaselessly amazed him with how much she took upon herself and was successful at. Yamanaka Clan Leader. Co-Head of the Interrogation Division. Chief Advisor to the hospital’s psych-ward under Shizune and the hospital’s director, Sakura Uchiha. Botanist. Mother. Wife.

Sai himself didn’t have nearly as large of an active resume as his wife. He was still in the reserve forces, though with the decline of conflict in the last decade they hadn’t sent him on a serious mission in months. He spent most of his days training, painting, and cleaning the house. To his surprise, he found the mostly-civilian life agreed with him. Any one of Ino’s jobs could easily support the household, and the excess funds went into her clothes, his art supplies, or to helping Konoha in general.

His hand paused over what appeared to be a protein bar. Was this what Sakura brought over yesterday? The hideous evolution those vile mud balls she made. Honestly, it was a miracle her husband and child could survive her cooking.

After another glance at the clock, Sai decided to risk it.

Sai jogged back up the stairs, protein bar clenched between his teeth. He passed Ino’s empty office, Inojin’s room, and finally entered the master bedroom, sliding the shoji shut behind him. The master bedroom was traditional matching the rest of the household, and since it passed on from clan leader to clan leader, intimately personalizing it would be inappropriate. Despite their inability to replace the antiquated furniture, Ino decorated the room with vases full of flowers that changed daily according to her whims. She also suspended several of his paintings on the wall. When he grew to dislike them, which happened once a week at minimum, he painted something new to replace them, a practice Ino didn’t object to.

He browsed through his wardrobe, all varying hues of dark neutrals, before settling to his usual combat outfit. Despite his slew of bad memories associated with Root, his normal wear still bore slight resemblance to their uniform, though it was more out of a tribute to Shin than to the disbanded organization.

In imitation of his father, Inojin adopted a similar garb, and though this dismayed him, Sai refrained from mentioning it

He walked over to his bedside, picking his sheathed tantō off the nightstand and clipping it to his back. What else should he bring? Honestly, he’d been mentally avoiding the subject for the past week. Shino Aburame, Inojin’s academy instructor, asked parents to come in and give a small sampling of their jutsu along with a basic explanation of their journey as a ninja. Something about exposing the children to the great variety Konoha offered.

The sample of his jutsu wasn’t worrying. In fact, his jutsu had to be one of the best for display purposes. Anytime he used it in a public setting, it drew the awe of children and adults alike. The brief explanation of his past as a ninja, well…when Root was involved he came in two settings: tight-lipped or calmly relaying ever last gruesome detail to a horrified listener. The children were training to become ninja, but today’s world was different than the world he grew up in. Danzō was long dead and people like Naruto were in power. Gone were the days of having to kill your brother for the sake of becoming an emotionally-deadened solider.

Sai resolved to gloss over Root as much as possible. As long as none of the children pressed him, which they shouldn’t, everything would go smoothly.

The week before, Ino demonstrated her ability for the class. She promised him multiple times it was an easy crowd, but he couldn’t fight the apprehensive feeling in his stomach.

Sai stepped for the sliding door, picking up a massive scroll and swinging it over his shoulder on the way out. After several more small preparations, Sai exited the Yamanaka manor and began his stroll down the compound’s streets, lined with flowered trees on each side. Sai loved the Yamanakas’ need for beauty. The other clans seemed so drab in comparison to the Yamanakas’ domed greenhouses and extensive gardens.

Isao passed him on the street, giving Sai a stiff nod of acknowledgement out of sheer societal necessity. Sai sighed, glancing down at a row of lilies. He tried to regain Isao’s good favor for years, but apparently his marriage to Ino was too damning to recover from. It wasn’t difficult to see why. He stood out like a sore thumb amid the tanned, fair-haired, light-eyed Yamanakas. He was glad Inojin inherited a majority of his appearance from his mother, so he would never feel the same way.

Nine years ago, to the dismay and mortification to multiple husbands, most of their wives got pregnant around similar times. Now _that_ was a wild six months. Inojin was born in January, and become the light of both his father’s and mother’s lives. Someone, he couldn’t even remember who now--Maybe Kiba? Maybe Karui?— mentioned his newborn son resembled an alien. Sai didn’t remember who it was, but he distinctly remembered the sound of the glass breaking as he punched them out from the sixth floor of the hospital. Not even Sakura could fault him for that one. Besides, Inojin grew more into his own every day.

“Hey, Sai!” called a familiar voice, and a blonde Yamanaka jumped out of the tree hanging over the sidewalk, crouching in his path.

“Good morning, Izumi,” he respond, watching the preteen’s kunai with mild amusement.

“Bet’cha didn’t sense me this time. Sensei’s been teaching us a few tricks,” she boasted, sheathing her kunai and crossing her arm over her violet blouse.

“Correct,” he said, smiling. “And I also do not sense the clone you’ve hidden in the tree,” he added.

Izumi groaned, bringing her hands together and releasing the clone in a puff of white smoke. “You’re no fun,” she added, sticking her tongue out and revealing her maturity all in one gesture. “Is Aunt Ino still back at the Intel Division?” she asked, jumping alongside him as they walked down the street together.

Technically, Izumi wasn’t Ino’s niece; she was her second cousin once removed, but saying niece made everything flow better.

“Don’t you have training today?” Sai asked, changing the subject. Izumi didn’t falter, but her face froze for a minute.

“Yeah! Sensei said I did so well that I could go home early!” she said with a wide smile that didn’t reach her eyes. He recognized it easily. When he was her age, he conjured the same expression thousands of times for less benign reasons.

“Izumi,” he prodded quietly.

Izumi crossed her arms, flicking her blonde hair out of her face before clamping her mouth shut. Sai thanked god every day that Inojin hadn’t fully inherited the Yamanakas’ spitfire disposition.

“I see,” he said carefully, watching her out of the corner of his eye. “You accidentally threw a kunai with a paper bomb attached at your teammates, hospitalizing them for the foreseeable future, setting fire to the training grounds, and have been suspending from ninja training indefinitely,” he said, watching Izumi’s face grow red with a flicker of amusement.

“Hey, it’s not funny!” she insisted pushing the older man away.

Sai let himself be pushed back, but watched with satisfaction as she tried to hide a smile. “Well, seeing as none of that occurred, it can’t really be that bad,” he added, and the two continued down the street.

Izumi raised an eyebrow, finally giving up on trying to hide her grin before she turned away with a sigh. “I guess it wasn’t that bad,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets and kicking a rock. “I’m…I’m not learning my jutsu as fast as Eiji or Minori,” she confessed, hesitantly looking up at Sai. His expression froze as he wracked his brain for those names. Ah, right. Her Akimichi and Nara teammates.

“That seems like a poor reason for your jōnin sensei to send you home early,” he finally said, wondering if he could get Izumi to divulge the details she so desperately hid without outright asking.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I kinda accidentally used the Mind Body Switch Technique when I wasn’t supposed to, and I kinda fell in the way of Eiji as he was practicing the Human Bullet Tank, and Moegi-sensei had to save me,” she confessed, looking away with a pained expression.

Sai mulled over this for a moment. Was she upset about being saved or by her initial failure? No, it was probably the combination of both.

“Our current Hokage’s failings have put himself and others at risk on multiple accounts,” he said, and Izumi’s face twisted in confusion. Sai mentally berated himself. Bad phrasing. “What I mean is—“

“I know, I know, I know,” Izumi said with a sigh. “Everyone fails sometimes, and I just need to keep at it. Sensei said the same thing.”

“And you don’t believe it,” Sai surmised.

Izumi shook her head, glowering. “I graduated the latest in the whole history of the Yamanaka Clan! Even Inojin is going to graduate younger than I did,” she said.

Sai thought it best not to mention how in pre-academy days children were thrown into combat at even younger ages and often died before reaching the age of thirteen, thus making her measurement of “graduating last in the whole history of the Yamanaka Clan” imperfect.

“Did you know I was promoted to chūnin two years before Naruto even became a genin?” he said instead.

Izumi took a step back, looked stunned and hurt. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked, with wide horrified eyes.

 “Naruto is now the most powerful and loved ninja in the village,” Sai continued. “The village officials only got around to promoting him after the Fourth Shinobi World War,” he explained, “and by then he was stronger than Lady Tsunade, the current Hokage at that time.”

Izumi crossed her eyes, furrowing her brow as she tried to digest this information.

“The point being,” Sai supplied for her, “Your rank and the age you attained it does not define your potential unless you let it, understand?”

Izumi’s face scrunched up as she mouthed the words to herself. They reached the gates of the Yamanaka Compound, and a warm wind blew between them. Sai hoped his efforts to comfort her hadn’t been in vain. It was still a tossup for him when it came to these matters. He was never sure how decent of a job he’d done until the other person reacted. This was even truer in regards to the tempestuous Yamanaka women, even the smaller ones that attached to him like a lost puppy.

“Where are you headed?” she finally asked, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

“To the Academy for a demonstration,” he replied honestly, not sure if her change of subject was a positive or negative sign.

“Okay, well, have fun,” she said, leaning against the pillars of the torii marking the beginning of the Yamanaka’s compound.

“You as well,” he replied, beginning to walk away.

“Oh, and Uncle Sai!” Izumi called. He paused, looking back.

“Thanks,” she added with a small smile.

He nodded, returning the smile before heading down the street. He passed the gate to the Akimichi compound, the smell of teriyaki drifting out and filling the streets. That’s how Karui won the affections of the Akimichi clan despite her rough nature: cooking. She challenged the previous matriarch, also her mother-in-law, to a cook off and won. The clan wanted to be outraged, but everything Karui touched turned to gold in their mouths, effectively silencing them and their complaints.

The young children, too young to spend their days at the academy, played in the spacious lawns, under the watchful eyes of their parents. It rained for the past four days, so now that the sun returned, parents were eager to get their hyperactive children out of the house and away from great grandma’s vase.

The Nara compound was significantly quieter than the Akimichi compound. The only sound came from the rustling leaves on the trees that dotted the Nara’s lands, providing an ample amount of shade for both relaxation and practice purposes. He noticed Temari and Shikamaru lounging on a bench under the shade, reading in silence.

Gaara appointed Temari Suna’s official diplomat to Konoha shortly after the war, causing her initial relocation to Konoha. Sai suspected the Kazekage of playing Cupid with his eldest sister, but given how well Shikamaru and Temari fit together, he couldn’t fault him on it. It worked out in the end anyways.

Sai left the residential district, entering Konoha’s bustling commercial district. Because of the city’s abundance of natural resources and the lull in conflict, Konoha decided to pour money into expansion, chiefly behind the Hokage’s stone monument. The influx in business benefitted everyone, and under the watchful eye of Naruto and the other Kages, their world entered into a period of great prosperity and growth.

Ninjas flashed above him in a blur, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Most of the civilians never even knew they were there to begin with. It was certainly a faster method of travel, but because Sai budgeted his time well, he could afford to walk, meandering leisurely through the crowded village.

He enjoyed people-watching. He treated Naruto to ramen on several occasions to have an excuse to do just that. Now that Konoha became a sort of cultural hub, the diversity of its residents skyrocketed. People from different generations, different countries, different professions all passed each other on Konoha’s crowded streets. He wove past the convenience store where Ino purchased her magazines, his favorite art supply store, the store him and his wife bought their crop tops from, and Tenten’s weapon shop.

Hinata Hyūga-Uzumaki—because of mutual love for her family and Naruto she kept both surnames—strolled down the opposite side of the street with a bag of groceries in one arm. Her other hand wrapped around her daughter’s arm, gently toting her down the street and back towards the Hyūga compound. He considered calling out to her, but upon noticing she was engaged in an animated conversation with her former teammate, Kiba, he thought better of it.

Sai knew from Ino, who perpetually kept an ear to the ground that the Hyūga matriarch had been under criticism lately from the main family. To say they were disappointed that Boruto and Himawari didn’t possess Byakugan was a gross understatement. At first they were enthralled she’d chosen the Hero of the Hidden Leaf and a potential Hokage candidate, but after Naruto’s genes proved irritatingly dominate, their feelings became less amiable.

In all likelihood, the title of Hyūga clan leader would pass to Hanabi’s children, who did have Byakugan. Ino theorized this was what Hinata secretly desired.

“She doesn’t want her own kids caught up in stuffy clan politics,” rang Ino’s voice in his head.

Finally, Sai spotted the academy building peeking over the buildings, sitting adjacent to the Hokage’s office. He saw a flash of smoke from the top floor of the Hokage’s building. Someone threw open a window letting an explosion of frogs cascade forth. People around him on the street began roaring with laughter, and even he found himself smiling at the sight. Naruto was in today.

With a lighter step, Sai rounded the corner to the academy, spotting a field of young children training on the grass while several instructors watched on. Immediately he began scanning the field for Inojin. A burst of flames brought his attention to Sarada Uchiha, who apparently inherited both her parent’s rivalries. She would’ve positioned herself so she could watch both Boruto and Inojin, and—Ah! There he was! Trying to practice while Chōchō and Shikadai watched from the shade. His mother would be so proud.

Shino noticed him from the sidelines, turning to the other instructors for a moment before stepping out into the whirl of children.

“Alright, Class 1-C, independent training is over, please head back to class,” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth, followed by a collective groan, and the sound of twenty students bidding their friends farewell before trudging back inside.

Inojin ran over to his father, looking rather flustered from his failed training session. He pushed a strand of platinum blonde hair back behind his ear, looking up at his father while the rest of his classmates went inside.

Shino gestured to the pair, and Sai walked with his son indoors.

“You’ve to do something cool, okay?” Inojin said the moment they stepped past the door frame. “Sarada’s mom came yesterday and broke Aburame-sensei’s desk in half. Oh, and Aunt Temari came the day before with her fan and blew all our quizzes out the window,” he said, pausing outside the entrance to the classroom. Shino lingered nearby outside the doorway, and Sai gestured for his son to take his seat. With one last look back, Inojin climbed the steps, taking his seat by Chōchō and Shikadai in the back.

The class buzzed in anticipation, all sneaking glances at Sai.

“Thanks for coming,” Shino said gruffly.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Sai said, though his first thought went something along the lines of ‘are you sure you want one of Danzō’s emotionally deadened ex-soldiers demonstrating in front of a room of impressionable children’, but then again, if they allowed Sasuke to perform…    

“It doesn’t have to be painful. Just a quick explanation about your signature technique and the story behind it,” Shino said, adjusting his visor.

Sai nodded, stepping inside the classroom. The children watched him take the stage with skepticism. Shino walked in after, pausing near him.

“And don’t break my classroom,” Shino whispered before continuing to the opposite wall to watch. Sai wasn’t particularly disturbed by Shino’s threats. He knew he could still take the Aburame in a fight.

“Students,” Shino barked, leaning against the wall. The students chattered on, ignoring their sensei completely. Shino raised an arm, letting a black cloud of bus seep out. The class stopped talking immediately, staring straight ahead. With a satisfied grin, Shino crossed his arms, letting his bugs return and crawl their way back under his clothes. “Now, listen to Mr. Yamanaka,” he ordered.

Sai faced the class, looking into twenty open faces, some of which he recognized. He glanced upwards towards Inojin, who was passing a note between Chōchō and Shikadai.

“Good morning, class,” Sai finally said. There. That was a good way to start, right?

“Good morning, Mr. Yamanaka,” came a half-hearted reply.

Sai reached back, unclipping the massive scroll and swinging it around. He dropped on Shino’s podium with more force than necessary, but it made a satisfying thud that hopefully conveyed a sense of its weight. Sai unrolled a portion of his scroll, withdrawing his special compartment from the scroll’s core. In a blur of motion, he opened it, scribbling a series of lines across the page.

“My name is Sai Yamanaka, and my primary jutsu is Super Beast Imitating Drawing,” he said, allowing a bird to burst forth from the scroll and soar above the heads of the class room. Some of the children’s eyes widened, but a majority looked unimpressed. They’d watched the Hokage himself teleport last week.

Sai placed his brush back down on the paper, ready to conjure up several of his lions before pausing. Perhaps he could approach this another way. Throwing his plans to the wind, Sai twisted his brush, turning the stroke into the underside of a face. A boy, smaller even than the ones sitting several yards away, crawled out of the scroll, facing the class with his papery skin and inky hair.

Despite Sai’s thick strokes and deceptively simple style, all the students knew the boy was supposed to be him.

“When I was very young, I liked to draw,” he began, starting on his next drawing. ‘Like’ was a strong word, considering for the first half of his life he’d felt numb to everything. ‘Like’ was easier to understand though.

Sai finished the bottom of his leg, releasing the second drawing after the first vanished. An older version of himself wearing an ANBU uniform stood before the class.

“After graduating the academy and being promoting to the chūnin, I was selected to become a member of the ANBU Black Ops,” he said. Technically, Root part of the ANBU, so it wasn’t really a lie. “There I learned how to imbue chakra within ink and bring my drawings to life,” he said, mentally directing his ink self to roam up and down the aisles just to give the children something to look at while he continued. “From this jutsu—“

“I’m sorry for the interruption, Sai,” Shino said abruptly, pushing himself off the wall. “But as of now we are in Code Yellow,” he began and the entire class burst into a roar of noise.

Sai released his drawing, but kept his scroll open and ready. Code Yellow meant there was a hostile intruder within Konoha’s borders.

“Students, remember our drills,” Shino bellowed, and the ‘srcccch’ of Velcro echoed around the room as twenty students reached for their kunai and shuriken.

“Do we need to evacuate the students,” Sai asked Shino quietly.

Shino shook his head so slightly that only Sai noticed. “I just got word Naruto is pushing them back to the perimeter,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on his students. They’d taken up defensive positions, weapons readied.

If the situation allowed, the ideal place for the students to be was the shelters within the Hokage monument or the shelters beneath the Academy. That they hadn’t done either was a sign the intruder couldn’t be too much of a threat.

“Five missing-nin from Suna,” Shino said, barely audible over the sounds of the students flipping their desks to create barriers. Academy students didn’t stand much of a chance against the average rouge ninja, if they tried to hide with their limited transformation jutsu, they’d be found in an instant. The point of having the students prepare to fight, as grim and gruesome as it was, was to buy time for some of the other students to escape.

The entire building rattled, sending a shower of dust down on their heads.

Shino cursed, jumping into position in the middle of the room, ready to defend against enemies from the door or windows.

Sai glanced over to Inojin. Finally his teammates, or future teammates, took the situation seriously. He held his hands high, keeping his weight balanced evenly on the balls of his feet like Sai had taught him.

A surge of protectiveness and pride rushed through Sai, and with a single bound, he joined Shino in the center of the room.

“You cover the door, I’ll take the windows,” Sai said, jumping forward again, scroll open between his hands. He landed on top the edge of an overturned desk in front of the large spread of windows.

He scanned the outside, senses becoming hyperaware as adrenaline began to flow through his veins. Battles didn’t make him nervous anymore. He approached them with a grim, respectful mindset. Things went wrong. Any battle could be his last, but now that his son was behind him there was so much more to lose than his own life.

In a blur, Sai inked three birds, sending all of them crashing through the window and soaring above the academy’s training grounds for surveillance.

His connection to the first severed, and its memories came flooding back to him.

A scrawny man, wearing a grey prison uniform crouched in a tree on the outskirts of the training field, watching them. Sai recognized him immediately. One of Ino’s projects from the interrogation division. A particularly steely-minded rouge ninja from Iwa. Was he in league with the sand ninja? Or just an opportunist? How had he escaped from prison?

“He’s by the training field,” Sai called back to Shino. “I will intercept him,” he added.

Shino nodded once, and Sai jumped out the window. He plummeted through the empty air, sending chakra to his legs to protect them from the impact of the fall. There was no point in stealth now. The Iwa nin had watched them from the beginning. As soon as Sai hit the ground, he threw open his scroll, flicking his brush over the paper. Twenty black snakes emerged, most streaking for the trees while the several remaining burrowed underground.

The second his snakes touched the tree, it exploded. Fantastic. He must’ve been part of Iwa’s explosion corps.

Sai knew from experience with another of Iwa’s missing-nin--a particularly loud-mouthed blond--that occasionally explosion release kekkei genkai came with a hidden weakness to lightning.

Sai didn’t have an affinity towards lighting.

The missing-nin jumped out of the cloud of smoke, landing in the middle of the empty field and grinning wickedly at Sai.

Sai didn’t smile back. Instead, he sent two large lions jumping from his scroll, charging the man. He dodged them with ease, blowing up the first with his touch alone. Before he could brush his skin against the second lion, it preemptively exploded.

Sai watched the cloud of black smoke, hoping the hidden paper bomb had been enough to subdue the ninja. But really, when was it that easy? The missing ninja flashed behind him, tapping him on the shoulder with an open palm. Chakra rushed through him from the impact, colliding with his core before rocketing back outwards.

Sai exploded.

Ink rained everywhere as the real Sai watched from the shadows. The man spun around with a snarl, before looking to the Academy building. His Cheshire grin reappeared as he stepped towards the building’s foundation, raising his arm to touch the rock.

An ink lion rammed into him from the side, sending him tumbling backwards. His deadly hands flailed in the air, and Sai ran forward, tossing a volley of shuriken ahead of him. The man twisted in mid-air, closing his fist and flipping off the ground to a standing position. He deflected Sai shuriken with a wave of his hand, causing them to explode mid-air.

Sai jumped back, and the two men watched each other, bodies tensed for action. Despite himself, Sai found himself get frustrated. Years ago he would’ve been able to defeat a man like this without issue. Perhaps it was time to try that new technique of his.

Sai launched a flock of birds in the man’s direction, concealing the paper bombs they carried. The birds exploded all around the intruder, giving Sai time to start on his next attack. He slipped a small scroll out from inside his kunai pouch along with a brush the width of the hair.

“This again‽” shouted the enemy ninja, jumping back from the exploding birds.

Ignoring his taunts, Sai released the small drawing, losing sight of it after it flew off his fingertips.

“This has been fun, but I’ve got work to do!” the man shouted, beginning a series of elaborate hand seals.

Sai grabbed a scroll off his belt, releasing one of his pre-drawn creations seconds before the entire ground erupted, sending dirt flying twenty feet into the air. Sai flew above it on the back of his owl, barely dodging the spray of earth. The training field was in shambles, and covered in a fog of fine dust that had yet to settle.

            Wind whipped past him as he circled the enemy. His chest heaved, sucking in lungfuls of hot air, and he could heart pound in his head from the exertion. Sai kept his gaze locked on his enemy below.

He had amazing endurance, and his unique powers seemed to have no limits, and could destroy anything Sai could throw at him, no matter how big or small. A volley of boulders rocketed towards him, forcing Sai to dodge. He had to fight smarter, not stronger. Taijutsu was out of the question, as well as any sort of close-range combat. He refused to die at the literal hands of some chūnin-level rouge ninja who thought having a useful kekkei genkai was all that was required to be a strong ninja.

In a quick movement, Sai performed three hand seals, triggering a small, unseen explosion. The man stumbled forward, coughing. Black ink covered the inside of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Sai fought the rush of triumph as his new jutsu proved its worth in battle for the first time. Before the man could recover from a lungful of ink, Sai’s hidden snakes from the beginning burst forth from the upturned dirt, wrapping around the man’s appendages and pulling him to the ground.

The Intel division might kill him for this, but it was his only choice. Sai’s snakes wrapped tighter and tighter around the man’s forearms until he screamed and his hands went white from blood loss. Bones cracked, and his snakes’ fangs severed the rest.

A vermillion blur appeared in the middle of the battle field, and Naruto materialized, hovering over the man. Within a minute, legions of ANBU were at Naruto’s side, looking considerably more winded than their Hokage. They quickly subdued the missing-nin.

Sai looked behind him to see how much destruction their battle wrought on the Academy. He sighed in relief. The only damage appeared to be to the training field itself, but Sai did notice over a hundred wide-eyed students watching him from their classrooms.

Understandably, Shino cancelled class for the rest of the day.

Sai returned to his owl, hoping on the ink creature’s back with ease and soaring back up to the fourth floor window he shattered minutes ago. Poor Shino. Apparently Sai couldn’t help from breaking things either.

Naruto with his superhuman speed was already inside the classroom, scanning every inch of his son for injuries, mumbling. “Hinata’s gonna kill me,” over and over again, while Bolt tried to squirm out of his grip.

Sai’s gaze roamed over the roomful of scrambling children for the one that belonged to him.

Inojin popped onto the window sill, waving goodbye to Chōchō and Shikadai before turning to his father. Sai offered him a hand, helping him over the broken glass and onto the ink owl.

After a quick nod of acknowledgement from Shino, Sai pulled his owl away, gliding over Konoha’s multicolored roofs. He could see smoke in the distance by the wall, probably the sight of Naruto’s previous battle.

After they stabilized at a nice cruising altitude, Sai turned to Inojin, looking the boy up and down. “Are you hurt? Do we need to go to the hospital?” he asked, brows pressing together in concern.

“No, but you might,” Inojin said, pointing to the purple bruise beginning to form on the inside of his wrist. Sai tugged on his sleeve, revealing an angry red bruise stretching from the bottom of his hand to half way down his forearm. Some of the shrapnel from the man’s last blast must’ve clipped him as he dodged. Sai was sure he’d begin to feel it once the battle high wore off.

“That was definitely better than the time Mr. Uchiha set Aburame-sensei’s bugs on fire,” Inojin commented, and Sai actually laughed at that.

“I’m glad.”

They returned home several minutes later, landing behind the house to avoid having to explain the story to every neighbor they passed.

Sai instructed Inojin to watch the house, keeping an eye out for his mother while Sai went to go shower and address his injuries. No doubt Ino would hear about the incident and be home within the hour.

Sai trudged up to the master bedroom, finally hit by the wave of weariness that was the price for the battle buzz. He unclipped his scroll, placing it exactly where it rested this morning. He put his tantō on the desk as a reminder to himself to clean it later. Come to think of it, he probably needed to clean his brushes after a battle like that. He walked back over to his scroll, popping out the secret compartment and inspecting his brush. He spotted the numerous dirt particles lodged between the bristled with a mild frown. It was one of his favorite brushes. Hopefully, he could still salvage it.

He set the brushes in a cup of water by his tantō, adding them to his list. Sai slipped into the bathroom, spending extra time in front of the mirror examining his various cuts and scrapes. His back fared the worst, covered in fist-sized bruised from debris that looked like indigo roses on his alabaster skin.

Sai spent double the time he usually did under the shower. Ten minutes instead of the usual militaristic five. Ino balked when she first learned how short his showers were, but after having the practice drilled into for years, taking any longer made him uncomfortable.

Today, however, Sai ignored his unease to spend extra time scrubbing the layer of grime, sweat and ink off his body, and letting the hot water relax his tense muscles.

He stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. He scanned the bathroom for the stack of clean clothes that should be there. Had he really forgotten to bring a change of clothes? Sai ran a hand through his dripping hair. This was getting to him more than he thought. He needed to intensify his training as soon as possible.

The moment he stepped out into the bedroom the hall door slid open, revealing his wife.

“Your arms,” she said, eyes widening. Her appearance was impeccable save for several telling strands of platinum blonde hair that slipped loose from the low ponytail she usually wore to the hospital. She stepped inside in a heartbeat, closing the door behind her with her foot.

Sai stood still, wondering if he should be embarrassed by his state of undress. She’d seen him in even less before, hence Inojin’s existence, but even after all these he still found the rules involving nakedness confusing. Before he could get lost in the various social scenarios flicking through his head, Ino stood in front of him.

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his right arm close to her face to allow her to inspect his injuries. Sai let the limb go limp, letting her twist and inspect it at her will. Resistance was futile, but he didn’t mind so much anyways.

“You fought Daiki, didn’t you?” she said scowling. Before he could answer, she sighed, dragging him across the room before pushing him by his shoulders onto a cushion.

“Honestly, what was he thinking trying to attack the Academy?” she went on, sitting down behind him.

“Perhaps he was attempting to take Boruto hostage,” Sai suggested, trying to keep his voice even as her fingers traced the large bruises on his back. He could’ve sworn things didn’t hurt this much when he was younger. Injuries seemed to heal faster then too. Ino had supposedly celebrated her 23rd birthday every year for the last ten years, and mentioning this was a one-way ticket to the ICU. Sakura, on the other hand, actually had stopped ageing when she was twenty-three, thanks to her final mastery of the Byakugō Seal. Similarly, mentioning this to Ino would result in quick and lethal retribution.

Ino continued prattling on, laying her hands on his back and allowing her chakra to flow through his broken skin. It pulled and pricked as his own blood vessels knit themselves back together.

“I mean, sure, his kekkei genkai is pretty special, but he seriously thought it was enough to take on Naruto?” Ino said, and he could hear the disapproving frown in her voice. Her hands slid up, nestling between his shoulder blades and kneading the tense muscles with her thumbs.

“He was desperate,” Sai reasoned. “He wasn’t thinking straight.” The weeks of psychological torture in the basement of the Intel Division probably didn’t help either.

Ino ‘hmpf’ed, stopping her massage and going back to work on his bruises. Sai bit the inside of his lip. There is was. Another misstep. After a stressful day at work, she was looking for a cadence of agreement, not rationalization. Rather than try to salvage the conversation, he decided on another avenue.

“Were you injured when he escaped the Intel Division?” Sai asked. He hadn’t seen any injuries on her, and her behavior betrayed nothing besides a slight rattling, but questions on wellbeing indicated concern. That was from one of first books.

“I wasn’t there,” she said with a sigh, “But if I had been, you better believe he wouldn’t have escaped,” she said crossly.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said easily. The omnipresent ache from the bruises was beginning to fade to a dull throb as she worked her glowing hands across his back.

“Shizune’s mission ran late, and Sakura had to stay home today—oh, did you hear!” she exclaimed, slapping his back in emphasis. He winced.

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, lightly placing her hand back down on his upper back. “But anyway,” she continued, enthusiasm creeping back into her voice, “Sakura’s pregnant again! Oh, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Sai hummed in agreement. That was news. Sai had a sneaking suspicion it could be because Sasuke couldn’t stand losing to Naruto in anything, including number of children.

“Anyway,” Ino said, “So Sasuke was trying to teach Sarada the Fireball Jutsu, and long story short, there’s now a hole in the wall of their living room and Sakura’s super pissed at Sasuke. I think he even had to sleep at Naruto’s house last night,” she said, rubbing practiced circles in his back.

Sai stated, feeling the corner of his lips pulling into a grin. “Sakura kicked Sasuke Uchiha, heir to the entire Uchiha dynasty, out of the Uchiha compound. His family home,”

Ino giggled, twirling her slender fingers around the dark strands of hair on the nape of his neck. “That’s right. We’ll see how long she can stay mad at him this time,” she said, lightly brushing the back of his neck with her fingertips. He pitied Sasuke. Slightly. Only because with Ino’s tempestuous personality, he’d found himself on the Uzumaki’s couch on more than one occasion.

“So Sakura was home repairing the house, which is why you were at the hospital?” Sai concluded, trying to ignore the chills spreading over his body and wishing very much he had something besides a towel to cover himself with.

“Mm hm,” Ino confirmed, pulling her hands away from his neck to finish healing the remaining swatch of his lower back.

“I heard about the fight from Inojin,” Ino said, placing a cold hand in the small of his back, almost causing him to jolt. “He seemed very impressed,” she said softly, almost proudly.

“I’m glad,” was all he managed to say.

She sighed, finally abandoning her healing attempts and wrapping her arms around his pale torso. She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder and leaning her head against his. Sai had to make a conscious effort to not go rigid under her touch. Old habits die hard.

“And I’m glad you’re okay. Imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there today,” she said into her collarbone, voice tinged with the specific kind of worry only achievable by parents.

“Shino Aburame is a perfectly capable ninja. In fact, his jutsu was probably a better match for Daiki’s anyways,” he mumbled, rerunning the battle through his head, trying to remember if there was a time he and the Aburame could’ve switched positions without putting the children at risk.

“But you did it without killing him,” Ino said, making light circles on his stomach. “Remember, Shino has restraint issues.”

“And I don’t?” Sai asked, masking the serious question with a smile.

Ino frowned, squeezing him tighter and kissing the back of his neck. “You have inhibition issues. It’s different,” she said, strands of platinum blond hair spilling forward onto his collar bone.

“Have I told you today that you’re beautiful?” Sai mumbled as she kissed the side of his jaw bone.

“Not enough,” she said, and he could feel her smile on his neck. He wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

Before the situation could take its course, loud footsteps echoed from the floor below.

“Mom! The cat’s eating your sunflowers again!” rang Inojin throughout the house. Sai and Ino cursed at the same time. He tried to twist around in time to grab her, but she was already gone, pounding down the hallway with kunai in hand.

“Keep it trapped, Inojin!” she shouted.

Sai cursed again, lunging for the wardrobe and a pair of pants before he gave chase. He had too many unfinished paintings of that three-legged mongrel for Momo to die on him now.

“Be reasonable, honey!” he yelled, stumbling out of the room while still trying to shove his foot through the last pant leg.

Outside the manor, Shikamaru paused, cocking his head and listening to Ino’s shrill shrieks.

“You’re a sympathizer! Traitor!” she screeched, voice carrying through the house and throughout the compound. Shikamaru winced. Maybe he’d come thank Sai later. Or maybe he should go to the Hokage’s office and tell Naruto to clear of the second couch. Humming to himself, he continued back the way he’d came, grateful for another _relatively_ peaceful day in the village hidden in the leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read, dear ones! I'd really love to hear your thoughts! If you're still craving SaiIno and an M-rating doesn't put you off, 'Ink' by xiaoyings over on FFN is fabulous if you haven't read it already!


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